Page 12 of Sending Love Letters to Animals

“You know I don’t worry about you staying at her house, Ryan,” Mom said over her shoulder. “It’s not like we have to worry about you two, right?”

“Very funny. But true,” I said. “Uh, but you know, Dad is going to—”

“You do need to spend time with him, you know.”

“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “But can you help me convince him that Saturday afternoon or Sunday or something will work? I kind of just want to chill with Jules Friday night.”

Mom sighed. “You’ll owe me.”

“How much?”

“One public hug and time on the couch watching some silly movie.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Don’t you ‘ugh’ me,” she said. “Deal or no deal?”

“Deal,” I said. “But if he doesn’t go for it, you get nothing! You hear me? Nothing!”

Mom laughed. “Get out of here and I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said. “All right.”

Quickly, I exited Mom’s office so that I wouldn’t be tempted to distract her anymore, and slipped her card into my pocket. I jogged past my bedroom and back down to the kitchen. Juno wasn’t in the kitchen, but I heard her banging around in the laundry room, so I retrieved my pizza rolls from the microwave. Before she could return and say something feisty to me again, I held the hot plate delicately in my hands and raced back to my room.

Seconds later I was at the little table in the corner of my room, my homework spread out before me. Hungrily, I devoured my snack while I did the few assignments that I had due the next day. The same thing I did every day after checking in with my mom once I got home. Afterwards, I ordered pork and cheese pupusas, tamales, and rice from my favorite Salvadorean restaurant and scheduled delivery for seven o’clock.

I shot off a few texts to my friends and responded to a few I’d received. I considered locking my door and spanking it really quickly before anyone thought to check in on me, but decided bedtime would be better. Or maybe during my shower. Instead, I scrolled through my socials and posted a TikTok of me performing—poorly—the dance someone from school had invented that afternoon right after school. I watched for a few minutes as my friends commented, roasting me to Hell and back, though it was all meant to be friendly teasing.

Boredom resides in a vacuum. When I looked up after all of that, the sun was setting outside and my room had grown darker. Shadows were being cast on the wall by the marmalade sunset, and my stomach was growling for better food than chemicals wrapped in cheap dough. I hadn’t heard Dad come in from work, but our house is kind of big, so I often didn’t hear the garage door from my room. I hadn’t heard his car pulling up, either, but the overwhelming cacophony of monotony had been distracting.

Down in the kitchen, Mom was sorting through GrubHub bags on the kitchen counter. Juno was setting out plates and silverware. Her headphones were still strapped over her ears but the volume was up so high I could immediately tell which song she was listening to as she set the table. Mom and I exchanged a glance and amused grins as I slid into my usual seat at the table. Juno slid a plate and silverware in front of me and intentionally bumped my shoulder with her hip as she rounded the table.

Screaming at my sister to keep her nasty ass away from me would have been my typical response. However, Dad’s arrival through the door out to the garage stopped me. It’s kind of an unspoken rule in our house that all fights must stop for the first hour that Dad is home. After a long day of back-breaking work, we like to give the guy a minimum of one hour of peace before we start being ourselves again.

Dad’s not some crazy authoritative, intimidating guy. That’s not it. He’s actually a pretty gentle, soft-spoken guy. So, it’s not fear of setting him off that manifested the unspoken rule. The guy works all day long in the heat or cold, getting his hands dirty and ruining his body. So, we all tend to give him a little peace and quiet when he first gets home.

“Hey, family!” Dad announced as he strolled into the kitchen.

Without fail, Dad coming home meant that he would find Mom, sweep her into his arms and give her the sloppiest kiss imaginable. Inevitably, this grosses Juno and me out, even though it’s sweet. Mom pretends that she’s upset about Dad not washing up before he grabs her. We all know she’d be more upset if he went to wash up before giving her a kiss when he got home. These are the things we all do because we’re family. Family means being annoyed by each other, but secretly loving every second of everything.

Unless you’re talking about Juno and me. She truly annoys me.

“Did you make all of this yourself?” Dad asked Mom as he rushed in and wrapped his arms around her.

“You know I did,” she said flirtatiously.

“It smells delicious,” he replied.

“I ordered it,” I said. “Don’t give her the credit even though it was her card.”

Dad and Mom both laughed before he gave her one of his signature sloppy and dramatic kisses. When he finally pulled away, Mom gave him a quick second kiss, then nudged him.

“Go wash the family off before you sit down,” she said.

Dad gave an obligatory laugh. The same one he’d been giving since I could remember.

That’s another long-running joke in our household. Mom’s black. Dad’s white. When he comes home from the shop, his hands and arms are covered with the grime of the day. Mom jokes that it’s the only time his skin looks like he actually belongs in our family. It’s a poor joke, but she thinks it’s clever.